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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Pigeons?" guessed Tom. "A pair of shears?" said Bella. "A pig?" cried Tom. But Charlie only shook his head more and more emphatically. "Why, a swarm of bees," he burst out, unable to keep his secret any longer, "bee-skip and all; and the man is bringing them almost at once." "Bees?" cried Tom. "What do you know about bees?" "Nothing; but I s'pose I can learn.
The sweet-standings, you see, always drew a swarm of wasps on feast-days, and the old man never could abide them since his accident with the bee-skip. Mr. Job sat there with his mouth screwed up, eyeing the whole length of the lugger. "I'd like to know why you were hammering out that tinplate?" said he.
Come and choose a place for the bee-skip to stand. Where shall they go?" "Oh, not anywhere near me!" cried Bella; "I don't like bees." "P'raps you'll like the honey. The man says he had pounds and pounds of honey last year. Come on, Bella. Come and help me choose a spot." Bella went, but not very joyfully, and Tom followed.
I've heard that, through being allowed by his mother to run too soon, Tackabird's legs grew up so bandy, the other children used to drive their hoops between them. And next, at fifteen, what must he do but upset a bee-skip! A bee stung him, and all his hair came off, and for three parts of his natural life be went about as bald as an egg.
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